Mutatis Mutandis: The Politics of Mutancy
by N2
Summary: The X-Men and Co. try to prevent an assasination attempt by the Acolytes and find themselves pitted against some unfamiliar foes.
1. Stop, stop Go

**Disclaimer:** Marvel owns all the characters and would never abuse them this way unless they were on THE DRUGS. 

**Author's Notes:** This story follows events in 'Awakening' and 'Interlude at a Chepa Motel.'   
Naturally, feedback is appreciated and can be sent to decadentmazohyst@yahoo.ca 

The Politics of Mutancy   
Chapter One - Stop, stop. Go. 

Scott Summers was getting pretty used to being roused out of bed at ungodly hours of the night (or technically, morning) in order to fly cross-country on a private aircraft with the ultimate goal of beating some super-powered threat to a pulp. 

That was, he decided as he stifled a yawn, pretty sick when you thought about it. 

Storm had come knocking at his hotel room not half an hour ago with the news that the Professor had received an urgent telepathic message concerning the intentions of Magneto's private brute-squad. They were apparently planning to assassinate Senator Hull, the man Scott had been watching on the news earlier that same evening, and somehow this was also all tied up with the girl the professor had been intent on rescuing some months back. Scott didn't ask for clarification - some questions were better off left unasked. Like how the Professor had managed to charter a private jet at such short notice. 

Telepathy probably had its advantages, Scott thought as he stretched his legs and wished to be back in bed. 

"If I could have your attention, please," the Professor said. Scott felt his back tense automatically and willed himself to look calm. 

"I'm very sorry to uproot you all so suddenly. I know you've all suffered a terrible shock, and the only thing any of us really wanted was rest." There were murmurs of agreement. Scott glanced quickly at the Brotherhood, who's been unusually silent thus far and found they were watching the Professor with guarded curiosity. 

"As some of you already know, a few months ago I came into telepathic contact with a young woman. I knew that she was in great peril, but upon arriving at her home I found that we were too late and she was gone." The Professor paused, his eyes momentarily dark. "Last night the same girl appeared to me while I slept. She is with Magneto." 

The Scarlet Witch hissed air through clenched teeth. Rogue gave her a sympathetic glance, and Scott was pleased to find that the plane did not shake itself apart. 

"Magneto has told this young woman that she and the rest of his team are to murder Senator William Hull. She does not wish to do so, and has told me as much. It is her hope - and mine - that we can prevent this needless killing." 

Lance cocked his head to one side, his brow furrowed. "But… that Hull guy hates mutants. Why should we help him?" 

"We didn't ask for your help," Scott said before he could put a rein on his mouth. 

The Professor ignored him and focused on Avalanche. "Hull, whatever his opinions, is a person like you or I. No one has the right to decide who lives or dies. And if he is assassinated, Hull's death will fuel the fire of anti-mutant feelings in this country. We must prove that we mean our human brethren no harm." 

Lance appeared to be absorbing this. Wanda's eyes sought the Professor's and bored into them. "I will help you, if only to ruin my father's plans." She smiled. It wasn't pleasant. "He can't hide from me forever." 

"We got your back, sugar-wumpus!" Toad declared. He realized that everyone was looking at him and shrank into his seat. "And y'know… I mean, youse X-Geeks did give us a place to stay." 

Lance nodded. "Just try not to get in my way, okay Summers?" There was no real malice behind the words. 

"You don't jeopardize any of my team, Alvers, and I think I can stand you being around." 

Bobby Drake shook his head. "Who'd have thunk it…?" he muttered. 

"Okay people," Scott said. Slipping easily into 'leader-mode.' "We need a plan of attack…" 

* * * 

Everything was grey outside, in the stealthy predawn sort of way. There was no sign of the Acolytes as Cyclops and the rest of the young mutants crept quickly forward toward the sprawling house at the end of the lawn. Jean was close to Scott and he stopped when she paused, her eyes closing and her fingers going to her temples. 

*Scott,* she said telepathically. *I think they're already inside.* 

"You think?" he whispered. 

She frowned. *There's something else. Something… strange. I should be able to at least get a feel for how many there are and where but… it's like there's some sort of pulse drowning out their psi-prints. Like… a blinding light.* 

Scott shrugged. "Well, whatever tricks they're using to hide themselves aren't going to help them. Jean, you're coming inside with me. The rest of you-" 

At that moment a hulking figure came rushing out of the shadow cast by the house, glinting in the half-light and snarling in a foreign language. Colossus. Eerily quick for his bulk, the Blob lunged forward and caught the Russian head-on. The two figures grappled on the lawn, but were oddly silent save for the occasional grunt. Scott darted past, Jean and Kurt right behind him. 

"Should we help?" Wanda asked Lance, who was standing a good distance from the battle and doing a good job of looking casual about it. 

"Nah. You and me, we're here for other reasons…" 

The Blob stopped suddenly, grinning. Before him Colossus stood frozen to the spot by a thick layer of ice. "Thanks, kid," he said. 

Bobby Drake tipped an imaginary hat. "No problem. Just promise I can hide behind you if he breaks out of there too fast!" 

Inside the house, Jean stopped mid-run. "Oh my god," she said. "Kurt! You have to get the Senator out of the house! Something's about to happen." 

"Jean," Kurt said. 

"NOW!" 

Kurt bamfed. 

Then the upper half of the house exploded. 

_Man do I wish I were back in bed, Scott thought._

* * * 

This chapter was short, I know, but it refused to mesh with the next. 


	2. Confrontation

**Disclaimer:** Marvel owns all the characters and would never abuse them this way unless they were on THE DRUGS. 

**Author's Notes:** This is part of Mutatis Mutandis. Everyone say 'duh' with me. This story follows the events that took place in 'Interlude at a Cheap Motel' and 'Awakening' chapter four. All MM stories are archived at www.originofspecies.cjb.net   
Naturally, feedback is appreciated and can be sent to decadentmazohyst@yahoo.ca   
I am currently listening to a song entirely about crabs. Not the kind you find in the ocean, either. 

The Politics of Mutancy   
Chapter Two - Confrontation 

Everything was grey inside. 'Outside' was different; the emotions of everyone around him shifting and sliding in a psychedelic display of auric colour that was not seen but merely felt. That and the murmured thoughts that were not his own made it tremendously difficult to function, so he retreated from them and built a dense wall of unfeeling around himself. Behind the wall was grey, and while it was depressing at least it was safe. 

Numbing. 

He was, he'd concluded, a walking corpse. No heart, no lungs, no blood. He was beginning to doubt he even had a soul. Yet his body moved, refusing to die despite his best efforts. As such, he found it rather difficult to really care about anything. 

And so it was that he found himself standing in the shadowed outskirts of one Senator Hull's spacious, manicured lawn, waiting apathetically for the all-clear signal so he could waltz into the man's house and murder him while he slept. This fact didn't bother him in the slightest; those emotions were on the other side of the wall. Kill a man? No problem. All in a day's work, guv. 

Clarice, he knew, was upset by the whole affair, but he couldn't quite bring himself to be sympathetic. In terms of war, killing this one man would prevent the deaths of countless others. Others of 'their kind,' as Magneto put it. 

Jonothon shook his head. 'Their kind.' Bollocks. If indeed it was mutants VS humans, he knew perfectly well that he was excluded from both groups. Other mutants, his genetic brothers and sisters, turned away from his form with faint shudders when they beheld him. Freak among freaks. 

Still, the fact remained that slaughter could be prevented. And oh how simply… just slip inside under cover of darkness and steal one human life. 

Just a human. 

_Not just. They have more humanity than you, monster._

Maybe so. But it didn't matter. None of it did. 

The device strapped to his wrist glowed a sudden sullen red, indicating that the scene was secure and he and the other Acolytes were to proceed to the house's east entrance where Gambit would be waiting for them. 

He moved forward through the darkness, peripherally aware of the thought/feelings of his teammates as they converged at the door. The night was silent except for the faint sound of traffic and there were no signs of security personnel… well, none that were conscious anyway. Clarice had already seen to that. 

"He be upstairs," Remy whispered. "Asleep in de master bedroom, jus' like we were told." 

Pietro, who was supposedly their field commander, gave a curt nod. "Okay. Remember the plan: Three of us will enter the bedroom. Two will guard the windows while one kills the guy, ok? Colossus, you stay here and stand watch. The remaining two will guard the hallway outside the bedroom. Got it? Magneto said this guy might have some surprises up his sleeve so we have to be careful. Ok, let's get going already!" 

Colossus grunted as the rest of the team slipped into the building. No alarms sounded, as Gambit was well versed in the art of breaking and entering and had disconnected them. Still, caution was required. The Acolytes crept along the darkened hallways, Pietro zipping up the narrow staircase to the second floor, scouting for trouble. When none presented itself he motioned anxiously for the others to follow. At the end of the hallway, which was carpeted in a deep olive shag Jonothon couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at, a paneled oak door stood shut against them. 

"That it?" Pyro whispered. Pietro nodded. 

"Yeah. Ok. Clarice and I will watch the windows while Gambit offs the guy. You other two stay here." 

Gambit held up his hands and shook his head. "I ain't killin' nobody," he whispered. 

Pietro stared at him. "What?! You're a criminal for crying out loud. Stop pussying around! 

Gambit shook his head again. "I am a thief," he said quietly. "I am not an assassin." 

Pietro rolled his eyes. "Fine," he snapped. "Clarice…?" 

"Oh no, nuh-uh. No." Her eyes were absolutely huge. "I… I can't. No, no… I just can't." 

"Pyro…?" 

"Sorry mate. 'Fraid I've never killed anybody before. Don't think I can do it unless we're in the middle of a fight, yanno?" 

Pietro made a disgusted sound and made a flapping gesture with his hands. "You're all pathetic," he hissed. "It's just a HUMAN. What about advancing dad's cause, huh? Survival? You guys forget all that stuff when you walked in here?" 

*Why don't you do it?* Jonothon asked. Pietro jumped, as the psionic voice was quite loud in the silence of the house. Jonothon, of course, didn't have to whisper. 

"Yeah," Gambit added slyly. "Honour should go t'our fearless leader, non?" 

"I…" Pietro looked startled, but then quickly adopted a nonchalant expression. "I don't want to get my hands dirty," he said. 

*Bollocks.* Jonothon pushed his way past the smaller boy and headed towards the door. *I'll do it, then. Damned already.* 

Pietro stared after him for a second, then motioned for Clarice to accompany him. "Stay here," he whispered at Pyro and Gambit, who both nodded. 

The door opened noiselessly, letting the Acolytes into a large, tastefully furnished bedroom with more hideous olive carpeting. The bed was a king size four-poster and two figures slumbered obliviously in the center of it. Clarice paused and tugged at Pietro's arm. 

"Two?" she asked. Her voice was hardly more than a breath. 

*Must be his wife.* Jonothon said, crossing the room to stare down at the sleeping couple. *Or mistress. Wotever.* 

Pietro made a 'hurry up' gesture and took his place at one of the windows. Clarice lingered, a frown creasing her pretty forehead. "Not both," she near-whispered, and moved to the other window and looked outside. 

Jonothon leaned over, hearing the faint whistle of breath moving in and out of Hull's nostrils. He felt a moment of real envy that this corrupt human being should be allowed such peaceful repose, such simple pleasures, such… normalcy. His hands reached out and long, slender fingers wrapped themselves gently around Hull's exposed throat. 

*Wake up,* he projected. At the window, Pietro jerked and turned around. 

"Keep it down!" he hissed. Jonothon ignored him. 

*Wake up,* he sent again. Hull stirred as Jonothon's fingers clamped tight, pinching off his airflow. His eyes snapped open, confused and panic-stricken. Beside him, his wife moved, coming awake as well. 

"Bill…?" the woman asked groggily. Hull choked, thrashing against Jonothon's relentless grip. The woman snapped awake and screamed. Pietro cursed and then he was at the bedside, holding the woman down and clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle her. He yelped suddenly when she bit his hand and then she was free, jumping on Jonothon and clawing. Jonothon's hands slipped and Hull moved, gasping for air. 

"Help!" Hull's wife was screaming. She tore at the bandages covering the lower half of Jonothon's face and sudden light flooded the room. Hull and his wife managed to tumble off the bed where they froze as Jonothon turned to face them. 

"Monster," Hull's wife whispered. 

Echoes of memory - bitter sensations. Not the first time he'd heard that word in relation to himself and assuredly not the last. Jonothon closed his eyes for a moment, ravaged features contorting painfully. Phantom fire swirled lazily, the flames changing like autumn leaves to a brilliant orange-yellow and scorching the bedsheets. Pietro, who'd been poised to attack, withdrew. He knew by now what such a display meant: something was going to explode. 

Time seemed to freeze in the instant before the explosion; Hull and his wife clung to each other like lost orphans, their wide middle-aged faces like obese children's as they waited, dumb, for a fiery death to wash over them; Jonothon's closed lids twitched and a soft non-sound drifted psionically to all present: a shadow-whisper emitted between the two halves of the brain, perhaps. Then the eyes snapped open, blazing with an inhuman light, and destruction reigned. 

The furniture splintered and burned, the wall and windows exploded outwards in a shower of charred brick and shattered glass. Then… it was over. Jonothon surveyed the wreckage mutely, noting there was no sign of Hull or his wife. 

"Does anyone else smell sulfur?" Clarice asked in the sudden silence. 

Pietro's head snapped around at the exact instant Pyro came hurtling through the door, propelled by an all-too-familiar optic blast. "Oh, shit," Pietro said conversationally. The X-Men had arrived. 

* * * 

Scott Summers, known alternately as Cyclops, had not planned on pausing upon entering the remains of Senator Hull's bedroom. In fact, after blasting the fire-wielding mutant in the hallway his plan was to charge ahead and take down as many Acolytes as he could before they realized that Kurt had teleported Hull and his wife away from the scene seconds before the room had been destroyed. Jean, he knew, was right behind him and keeping an eye out for the unaccounted Acolyte - the one with the goatee and red eyes. There'd been no sign of that one, and Scott assumed he was in the bedroom with Quicksilver and the mysterious girl the professor had mentioned. 

So. The plan was zap first, ask questions later. No stopping planned. 

Thus, Scott was completely surprised to find himself skidding to a sudden halt upon rushing through the doorway, but the tableau that greeted him was just so far from what he'd been expecting that he couldn't help himself. 

Half the room was simply… gone. Spiraling scorches marked the remaining ceiling and floor while the air seemed to hum with a latent energy. Frozen beside the bed was Quicksilver, his mouth set in a shocked 'O'. Not far behind him was a slim young woman with lavender skin and an expression that reminded Scott of a deer about to take flight. The Acolyte he'd blasted lay at the foot of the bed, groaning. But what made Scott stop his charge abruptly was the figure on the side of the bed opposite Quicksilver, languidly turning to face him. 

Dressed head to toe in black leather, the boy appeared to be in flames. Or rather, Scott amended mentally even as his body moved to a defensive posture, the chest and lower half of the boy's face seemed to have been replaced with some sort of unimaginable cavity spewing luminous, shifting energy. Scott heard Jean gasp and caught a brief telepathic message from her (Scott, HE'S what I felt…) before Quicksilver made a bolt for it, streaking past him and out the door before Jean could recover enough to snare his feet telekinetically. 

"Who-" Scott started. 

*Chamber.* The reply rang through his head, accented and hollow. Dead. 

*SCOTT!* 

Scott whirled in time to see Jean crumple to the floor as the lavender girl who'd been standing in the corner seconds ago delivered an expert kick to the back of her head. Scott reacted instinctively, blasting at the girl's form despite his desire not to hurt her, and was shocked when she simply vanished before the blast could hit her. 

_Teleportation_, Scott thought. _Oh shit…_ He turned in time to receive a kick to the stomach, a fist to the jaw and a swift backhand across the face. Scott sprawled, narrowly avoiding a foot in the face as he rolled. The ground, he noticed peripherally, had started shaking. Great. What now? 

* * * 

In the world of Pietro Maximoff, one person mattered above all others: Pietro Maximoff. So when the X-Geeks appeared in Hull's bedroom, his first priority was to get himself the hell out of the line of fire, THEN worry about his teammates. Grey had been the only X-Man he'd been concerned about; he was much too fast for any of the others. 

So Pietro was shocked, to say the least, when his feet suddenly stopped moving as soon as he hit Hull's front lawn. Pietro let out a decidedly unmanly squawk as he recognized the electric blue energy field holding his feet to the ground. 

"Wanda," he moaned, looking around frantically. He could see his sister advancing unhurriedly across the lawn. 

"Hey Pietro," a familiar voice sounded to his left. Pietro turned, his hopes rising. It was Avalanche. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince the older boy to help him get away… 

Lance grinned as Pietro's head turned to face him. "Got you where we want you, traitor," he said, and the ground started shaking. 

"Dear brother," Wanda cooed as she advanced across the trembling ground. "I think we need to have a little heart-to-heart…" 

Pietro looked from Lance to Wanda and justly decided that he was screwed. 

* * * 

End Chapter Two 


	3. Culmination

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of the underpants gnomes at Marvel. They are abused without permission for the purpose of entertainment, not profit. Dig the archive of Mutatis Mutandis at www.originofspecies.cjb.net (there's music videos there… oooh see how I entice you!) 

The Politics of Mutancy   
Chapter Three - Culmination 

Kurt Wagner had impeccable timing. 

He'd teleported the very upset Senator Hull and wife away from their bedroom just in time, leaving them safely with Professor Xavier. He wasted no time in teleporting back to the bedroom, and was greeted with the sight of Jean unconscious on the floor and Scott being pummeled by a vanishing form. Not good, he decided, and 'ported to Scott's side the same instant the assailant rematerialized. 

"Hello!" Kurt said cheerfully. 

"Who..?" the girl managed to get out, her clear blue eyes blinking in surprise. Kurt wrapped his arms around her and bamfed. 

Leaving Scott on the vibrating floor, curled in anticipation of a blow. When none came, he cautiously pulled himself to his feet, realizing that he was not in fact alone. The mystery Acolyte was still standing there, watching him. 

"I don't want to hurt you," Scott said, wondering all the while why the other boy didn't attack. "So I suggest you either surrender yourself to our custody, or get out of here. The authorities are on their way by now." 

*You're with Xavier?* 

Between the Professor and Jean, Scott was used to telepathic speech, so the sensation of having someone's 'voice' bounce around in his head like a ping-pong-ball was not that disconcerting. The lazily spiraling energy field pouring from the other boy's body, however, was. The boy's shattered face was perfectly illuminated and Scott could see a multitude of recently healed scars reaching up over pale flesh. 

"Yes." 

*Which one are you?* 

"Cyclops." 

*Chamber.* 

_This is getting a little surreal_, Scott thought to himself. _I'm having a polite conversation with one of the enemy while the ground tries to shake itself apart under our feet._

His thoughts were interrupted by another's. *You're wasting your time.* 

"You think?" 

*Yes. Magneto's dead-set on 'preserving the species.'* His tone was vaguely sarcastic. *It's us or them, you know.* 

"I don't believe that, and I don't think you do either." 

*You don't know me.* 

"No." 

The floor lurched alarmingly, nearly knocking Scott off of his feet again. A disturbing hollow echo rattled through his mind as the other boy shrugged his shoulders - a sigh, Scott realized. 

*I'll see you later,* Chamber told him as he strode from the room. There was absolutely no threat in the words. Scott stared after the glowing figure for a moment before remembering his duty and going to Jean's side. 

She was starting to show signs of consciousness. _Great timing, Jean,_ Scott thought with a tight grin. "Jean?" 

"Scott?" 

"Can you walk?" 

"Mmm. Help me up and we'll see. Ow, what HIT me?" 

"I think it was the Professor's girl." 

Jean rubbed the back of her head and scowled. "She should learn to play a little nicer," she muttered. Scott smiled, and the floor lurched again. 

"Crap. Avalanche. We'd better get out of here before he shakes the whole place apart." 

* * * 

"Dear brother," Wanda cooed as she advanced across the trembling ground towards her twin. "I think we need to have a little heart-to-heart…" 

Pietro made a little whimpering noise in the back of his throat. Beneath him the ground was undulating like an agitated snake, and no matter how hard he tried he could not move his feet. 

"Wanda, Lance… please, I can explain…!" 

Wanda, calm in the middle of the earthquake, smiled. It was a beautiful smile, one worthy of Da Vinci. "No more words," she whispered sweetly. 

She raised her hands suddenly, screeching in incoherent rage. Pietro was lifted from the ground and flung against the side of the house at high velocity. He grunted as he struck the wall. It took a moment for the fact that he wasn't sliding down the wall to permeate the haze of pain clouding his mind. He opened his eyes, which had shut involuntarily when he'd impacted, and saw Wanda standing beside Lance, grinning like a kid at a birthday party. Lance winked at him before his eyes rolled back in his head and his limbs started shaking. A portion of Senator Hull's picturesque lawn unfurled like a carpet as the ground beneath it shuddered upwards, turning into a wave of rock and dirt that was sent careening straight at the side of the house. Pietro had time to squawk and shut his eyes again before the earth-tsunami plowed into him. 

Rocks cut his flesh and dirt packed his nostrils shut. He couldn't breathe. 

Then: noise and heat - an explosion. Air. Pietro gasped, blinking stinging dirt from his eyes. A warm hand grabbed him and hauled him roughly upright. 

"Run, _mon ami_," the Cajun instructed. "Gambit take care of dis one here." 

Pietro paused for a second. His sister was stretched facedown on the ground, blood trickling down the back of her neck. Lance was still standing, his shocked expression being quickly replaced by one of vehement fury. He let out a yell and the ground started uprooting itself again. 

Pietro took the hint. He ran. 

Gambit grinned and flipped casually away from the fault-line headed his way. Sneaking up on the Scarlet Witch had been easy for a former thief of his caliber, and his current opposition seemed to be about as sharp as a butter-knife. Simplicity itself. He flicked a card as he dodged, and the resulting explosion knocked Lance off his feet. He was about to snake forward and whip his bo-staff across the other boy's face when an angry female voice arrested his attention. 

"Ya'll just BACK OFF!" 

Gambit turned, smiling. He remembered this one… it was the skunk-headed X-Man. Rogue. 

"_Bonjour, cherie,_" he said as he evaded a potential blow to the head. 

"Whatevah," Rogue snarled, and renewed her attack. 

Eldritch light flooded the lawn, shifting and moving like a live thing. Which, Gambit supposed, it was. 

*We're leaving. Now.* 

Psionic flames raged across the ground, snaking towards X-men and Brotherhood members alike. Gambit touched a card to his lips, and flicked it at the goth-girl before bolting to Colossus' side. Both the card and the ice encasing the Russian exploded almost simultaneously. 

The inferno expanded, providing a cover for the fleeing Acolytes. The broken figure in the center had a strangely euphoric look about it, a quality that was reminiscent of Renaissance paintings depicting martyred saints. 

_A beautiful monster_, Rogue thought to herself. At that second Kurt appeared at her side in a cloud of smoke. 

"He can't stop!" Kurt said urgently. "Rogue, ve have to take him down! Now!" 

The light was painful in its intensity. 

Rogue acted without thinking. She ran forward, ripping her gloves from her hands as she did so. Cyclops and Jean had just reached the front door as she did so and Scott lunged forward, shouting, "Rogue! NO!" 

But she did not reach for Chamber; instead she veered, dropped to her knees and grabbed the pale skin of the Scarlet Witch's neck. 

Spiraling destruction surged forward and was caught in an electric blue web and nullified. Rogue was screaming. The crackling energy pouring from her body enveloped her opponent - 

_(there was a scream, only it was not heard but felt)_

- and suddenly he slumped forward, the flickering glow of his body snuffed out like a candle. 

A shriek rent the air, and the boy blinked out of existence. Rogue, hysterical, turned to her teammates with no recognition in her eyes, and then she too pitched forward, thudding to the ground. 

The only sound was the advancing sirens. 

* * * 


	4. Clarification

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Marvel. They are used and abused without permission for the sake of entertainment, not profit. Spank the monkey, Marvel. 

The Politics of Mutancy   
Chapter Four - Clarification 

The problem with teleportation was that you were never 100% certain of where'd you wind up. Oh, if you knew what you were doing then there was something like a 99% chance you'd wind up where you wanted to go, but there was always that niggling 1% that was testament to the fact that you could be aiming for Milan and wind up in Butthole, Nebraska. It was this 1%, to Clarice Ferguson, that always made teleportation somewhat disorienting. 

One second she'd been moving on body-memory, beating what she saw as a potential threat to Jonothon's personage. The next a demon appeared in a cloud of smoke, said hello, and grabbed her. 

Now she was standing by a large black plane of some kind, and the demon was jumping away, grinning a little. He had very pointy teeth. 

"Clarice." 

Whatever she'd been planning to do (_kick to the head, 'port back to Jono_) fled her mind as soon as she heard that voice. It was the same voice as in her dream. 

"Xavier?" she asked, tentatively. 

There was a man in a wheelchair beside the plane. A blanket covered his legs, although Clarice didn't think he could feel the early morning chill in them. His eyes were kind. 

"Yes. You called, I came." 

Clarice felt like crying. "It's too late," she said. "Jono, he…" 

Xavier shook his head. "Senator Hull and his wife are perfectly fine," he said. He indicated the demon standing next to him, who was staring at Clarice and still smiling. "Kurt here teleported them to safety before the blast." 

"Thank you," Clarice said to Kurt. His tail whipsawed back and forth. 

"_Ja_, is nothing," he muttered. 

"Clarice," Xavier said. "I want to offer you the chance to escape all this. Come with us. I can give you save haven and you won't ever have to do anything you don't wish." 

Clarice shifted uncomfortably. "But, Erik…" 

"Erik is not a bad person," Xavier said softly. "But he is consumed with anger, and it will ultimately destroy him and those who associate with him. One day, God willing, he will understand." He sighed. "But for now, I ask that you think of yourself." 

Clarice bit her lower lip. "I would come with you," she whispered. "But… I just can't right now. I'm so sorry. But there's Jonothon. If I leave he won't have anybody, and I'm afraid of what he'll do." 

Xavier nodded slowly. "I understand. Very well. He took a simple white card from the inside of his jacket and held it out to her. "This is the number for my Institute. If you ever change you mind… just call. We can protect you." 

Clarice nodded. 

In the distance, unnatural light flared. The Professor winced a little. 

*We're leaving. Now.* The telepathic voice was 

The Professor's widened and sought Clarice's. "Your friend," he said. "That energy, it's building…" 

Clarice's mouth fell open. "Oh no," she whispered. "Thank you Professor." She vanished. 

"Kurt!" The Professor said. "That boy doesn't know his own strength. It's a very great possibility his mutant powers will spiral out of control, killing himself and all of us…" 

Kurt bamfed. 

* * * 

It all happened quickly. Sequentially, it went like this: 

Clarice teleported to the Senator's bedroom, where Pyro was just regaining consciousness. 

At the same time, Kurt appeared beside Rogue. Rogue ran for the Scarlet Witch, gloves off. 

Clarice teleported Pyro back to their escape pods then returned to the Senator's lawn. 

Rogue attacked, rendering Chamber's mutant powers null and void. 

Clarice didn't know what was happening, but she saw that Remy and Pitor were both absent so she assumed they were safe. Then Jonothon pitched forward, blank and hollow. The psionic fire of his chest had been doused, and Clarice knew exactly what _that_ meant. 

She screamed and teleported both him and herself away as fast as she could. 

Rogue turned, her mind a blur of angry images. She raised her hands, ready to attack anyone who moved. At that moment, Jean reached out telepathically and knocked the other girl unconscious. 

Sirens wailed, and the X-Men fled. 

* * * 

The X-Jet. 

"You didn't erase tonight from his memory?" Scott asked incredulously. 

The Professor shook his head. "No. It is my hope that Hull will not focus on his attack tonight, but rather his rescue. I explained to him that not all mutants wish humans harm, and that we wish only to co-exist peacefully." Xavier sighed. "I cannot go around mind-wiping every person who might hurt us, Scott. Much as I'd like to, some days." 

Scott nodded, tight-lipped and focusing on piloting the plane. "The girl?" he asked at last. 

"She feels she can't abandon her friends. Especially the one referred to as 'Chamber.'" 

"What WAS that?" Scott asked. "Jean said he gave her a headache." 

"I'm not sure, Scott. But it would seem the boy is a psi of great potential." He shook his head. "And he's sided with Magneto." 

In the back of the plane, Kurt Wagner was hovering near his 'sister'. The Scarlet Witch was awake, and she glanced over a few times before speaking. 

"She touched me?" 

"_Ja._" 

"Oh." Wanda looked thoughtful. "Does that mean… does she have my memories?" 

"Yeah," Rogue said groggily, her hand going to her head. Kurt smiled widely. 

"Rogue! You're okay!" 

"That's your opinion," she muttered. Wanda looked at her. 

"I'm sorry. Nobody should have those memories inside them." 

Rogue smiled a little. "It's okay. Ah knew what I was doing." 

Wanda just looked at her silently. 

* * * 

"Sweet leaping Jesus," Pyro whispered. 

Clarice had appeared at the same moment Remy and Piotr had come running up to the escape pods. She was hysterical, and half-supporting a very dead looking Englishman. It took St. John a moment to figure out what looked so different about the limey: he wasn't on fire anymore. Oh. In fact, you could just see the hollowed-out, scorched remains of his interior… 

Jonothon Starsmore's curse was also the only thing keeping him alive. Not having a heart or lungs, the only thing that kept him from falling over and rotting was the psionic energy that was housed in his upper torso. The nullification of his mutant powers had caused the energy field to shut down, which was the exact equivalent of turning off someone's life-support. 

However, upon leaving the influence of the Scarlet Witch's powers, it kicked back in again. 

Jonothon came alive again with a jerk, a sudden burst of psionic flames, and a mental howl that sent shivers up St. John's spine. Pietro, who'd been standing closest, zipped out of the way in time to avoid being incinerated. Clarice gasped and dropped Jonothon so he thudded to the ground in an undignified mess of black leather. 

"Jono?" she asked frantically. "Say something!" 

*Bloody fuck,* he managed. Pain telepathically oozed out from around the words. 

Remy grinned thinly. "He's fine enough to travel, _chere_," he told Clarice. "We have to move. Those sirens getting' closer." Clarice nodded and helped Jonothon into one of the metal spheres Magneto had left for their escape. 

Xavier, Clarice thought in the stifling darkness of her sphere. 

The Acolytes fled. 

* * * 

Elsewhere, where the only light was a flickering television set, a man picked up a ringing phone. 

"Hello? 

"Yes, yes I saw the news. Tried to kill Hull." 

The television was muted. The air smelt faintly of obsession. 

"A rally? Good idea. Uh-huh. Right. Okay." 

The man smiled into the receiver. 

"Yes, Mr. Creed. Goodnight." 

* * * 

End the Politics of Mutancy   
Coming Soon... The Fallout. You thought things were bad BEFORE? 


End file.
